Escape by Arabian Nightfall
by Skoolgrl09
Summary: Pacifica has been forced to marry somebody she's not in love with and move to an unfamiliar country. Will she escape and make it back to the States? Will she fall in love with this man, stay put, and adjust to this new manner of living? Who is this guy, anyway? Why was she forced to marry him in the first place? Where is he from? Contains abuse, rape, and PTSD triggers.
1. Chapter 1

"Escape by Arabian Nightfall"

Chapter 1:

It had been six years since that fateful day. Six years since her father selfishly gave her away as a bride to some man who was the son of some oil tycoon in Afghanistan, so he could rebuild the family fortune. She could remember it like it was yesterday.

Pacifica woke up thirsty and decided to go downstairs for a glass of water. She stopped midway when she heard a voice coming from the office.

" You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Hosseini," Preston uttered. " Very well. I will let her go for 33.5 million dollars and not a penny less…I knew you would see it my way, Mr. Hosseini. See you tomorrow afternoon, Pacific Standard Time. I assure you she will be worth it, Mr. Hosseini. You won't regret it. I promise."

Preston hung up the phone just as Pacifica entered the room.

" What are you doing up so late," Pacifica asked, raising an eyebrow.

" I had an international business meeting," Preston then raised an eyebrow. " What are you doing up so late?"

" I was thirsty," She retorted. " Who was that, anyway? You never work this late."

" That is none of your concern," Preston shrugged her off. " Now, go get your water and go back to bed. We have a busy schedule tomorrow."

" We," Pacifica was baffled. " What do you mean "we"?"

" They are coming here tomorrow, on business, and your mother and I expect you to be there with us this time," Preston stated. " It is time you start learning what Northwest Mud Flaps is all about. You are, after all, the sole heir to the fortune."

" Daddy, I told you, I'm not interested," Pacifica rebutted. " I am going into fashion designing and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

" Well, guess you'll have to change majors then, because I will not have a Northwest wallowing around anywhere below Upper Class wages," Preston argued.

" Daddy, business isn't my thing," Pacifica rejected. " It's your thing…Or is it? Daddy, didn't you ever want to be something else other than a business man?"

" I did," Preston retorted, turning away from her. " I wanted to be a chef, but your grandfather shipped me off to business school instead. I must admit, he did me quite the favor, for I would not have met your mother and you would have never been born. We also would not have been as well off as we were before…Ugh…Weirdmaggedon."

" So, you are saying you are happy being a business man," Pacifica interviewed.

" I never was and never will be, but that's life," Preston said, staring out the window.

" Then do what he never did and let me join a career that makes me happy," Pacifica gestured to herself. " Who cares how much it pays. Besides, I could become famous someday. You never know."

" I'm afraid I can't do that, Pacifica," Preston turned around, darkness radiating from his form. " You are the only one I trust with the business. It goes and the Northwest name will fade into obscurity."

" After what our family did, I think we deserve it," Pacifica murmured.

Preston glared at his daughter then stood up from his chair. He walked over to her, looking down his nose at her.

" For years, our family has lied and cheated everybody," Pacifica raised her voice as she continued, unphased. " It's about time we give somebody else a turn for once and allow our family to be normal for once."

" You bite your tongue," Preston hissed, slapping her across the face. " Look. I am not taking "no" for an answer. You are to be awake at 7 am sharp, fed, groomed, and in your best dress by the time we leave for Portland at 9am. No ifs, ands, or buts."

Pacifica, who was now 22 and no longer 16, was standing on the balcony of hers and her husband's mansion. She climbed onto the guardrail, sat down, and flipped the hood of her headscarf down, staring into the night sky. Her thoughts continued racing.

That argument escalated until Priscilla had woken up and broke them up. The morning after, everybody was silent. Pacifica resentfully did what she was told and met her parents down stairs. Her mother gave her an expression of solemn, her eyes tearing up. Preston was shuffling through the paperwork in his hands, expressionless. He glanced up.

" Ready to go," Preston asked.

" Yes, Father," Pacifica retorted, resentfully.

" Good," Preston chimed. " Let's go."

The family climbed into their Mercedes Benz and began driving to Portland. Priscilla fiddled with her thumbs, while biting her lip. Pacifica was glaring at the floor with her arms folded. Preston glanced into the rearview mirror and sighed.

" Pacifica, we only want what's best for you," Preston started. " You know that, right?"

" Yes, Father," Pacifica muttered.

" Now, about the meeting," Preston continued. " We have three guests coming in from Afghanistan. Their family owns an oil company in RichieRichishbar. They are, um, traditional Muslims, so do try to hold your tongue, okay?"

Pacifica nodded her head in response.

" Excellent," Preston chirped, grinning. " You're doing well already."

A few hours later, they arrived at the Portland Airport. Their guests were waiting outside the terminal, holding up a sign with the Northwest family name on it.

" Ah, salaam," Preston greeted energetically as he approached the group. " Glad you could make it, Mr. Hosseini."

" Salaam, Mr. Northwest," Mr. Hosseini greeted back then eyed the family. " And who are these charmingly, beautiful women?"

" This is my wife, Priscilla, and my daughter, Pacifica," Preston replied.

" Nice to meet you," Mr. Hosseini stated then gestured to a woman whose appearance was obscured by a burqa and a man who was about twenty years older than Pacifica. " This is my wife, Mrs. Hosseini, and my son, Raja. So, about the meeting? We would like to get this done and over with, if you don't mind. Something came up back at home and it is very important we get back there as soon as we can."

" Not at all," Preston stated. "We reserved the only temple in the city, so we could do business there."

" Perfect," Mr. Hosseini chimed.

It went all downhill for Pacifica from there. When they reached the temple, she was told to change into a burqa and sit down on the floor at some table with stubs for legs. From there, her father and Mr. Hosseini began talking business.

" So, do we have a deal," Preston uttered.

" I think she will make a fine bride for Raja," Mr. Hosseini retorted, jovially. " Yes, we have a deal."

" What," Pacifica shrieked, pulling off the purple burqa. " You're marrying me off? Is that what this meeting was all about?"

" Pacifica, your mother and I have been struggling and thought this was the best choice for all of us," Preston turned to her with a stoic expression.

" Because 625 million dollars per year isn't enough to live off of," she screamed, her face turning red. " I can't believe you would put your stupid business before your own daughter."

" Pacifica, you will be married to a rich man in the middle east," Preston tried to reason with her. " You'll have everything you could ever want and you won't even have to lift a finger."

" Daddy, I want to work," Pacifica roared, getting in his face. " I want to go to college and I want to work. Not get married to some stranger who is almost as old as you are."

" Do not worry, Hamshira," Mr. Hosseini stated, calmly. " You'll have access to a women's college there and you may work if you so wish. Might I ask, what would you like to be?"

" Finally, somebody cares," Pacifica groaned as she looked up at the ceiling then calmed down, turning to him with a smile on her face. " I would like to be a fashion designer, some day. It's my passion."

" Did you hear that, my wife," Mr. Hosseini turned to Mrs. Hosseini, grinning. " She wants to make clothing. Perfect, considering our busy schedules, wouldn't you say?"

His wife nodded her head.

" My wife is a lawyer for our family business," Mr. Hosseini wrapped an arm around her. " She makes sure that we are following the laws and handles any lawsuits that come our way. Sadly, she no longer has time to make clothes. She makes the most beautiful designs that I have ever seen, too."

" My, Afghanistan has certainly changed the past few years," Priscilla noted with relief.

" Well, now that ISIS has finally been flushed out, it hasn't been quite as bad," Mr. Hosseini stated. " Still a mess there, though."

" Ah, yes, the Egyptian god fellow," Preston muttered with an eye roll, earning an awkward silence from the group.

" Anyway, back to the matter at hand," Mr. Hosseini started, pulling away from his wife. "I will pay the bride price as requested and Raja and Pacifica can sign the paperwork for the Mullah."

" Splendid," Preston chimed.

Once Mr. Hosseini had paid the bride price, he signaled the Mullah to come into the room. He came in with the paperwork and handed it to Raja. Raja signed his name on the marriage contract then passed it to Pacifica. Pacifica stared at the contract, not picking up the pen. She narrowed her eyes at it, wishing it would burn.

" Well, what are you waiting for," Preston raised his voice, impatience lacing it. " Sign it."

" No," Pacifica murmured.

" What," Preston glared, scowling.

" No," Pacifica yelled, turning to him. " I can't marry somebody I just met and move to a country I am not familiar with."

" Oh, but we have met, many times," Raja commented. " I went to many of your parents' parties."

" Well, I can't marry somebody I don't have feelings for," Pacifica protested, folding her arms.

" Pacifica, please," Preston pleaded. " Do it for us."

" You," Pacifica shouted, slamming her fists on the table. " Everything I have ever done in my life has always been for you. When will you bend over backwards and do what I want to do?"

" We have and we're starting to regret it," Preston argued, leaning toward her. " Lately, you have been nothing but a troubled teenager. Always acting so rebellious."

" Oh, and what you and Mom have been doing is so much better than what I've been doing," Pacifica fought back, doing the same.

Preston did what he had not done in a long time and pulled out the bell. He started to ring it. Pacifica silenced herself and turned to the wall, folding her arms again. Priscilla turned to their guests and grinned, letting out a nervous chuckle.

" She gets like this when she's excited about something," she uttered, earning an eyebrow raise from Mr. Hosseini.

" Suddenly, I'm not so sure if this is such a good idea," he said. " In Afghanistan, a woman is to never raise her voice at a man. If she does, terrible consequences will come after."

" What kind of consequences," Priscilla questioned, worried.

" You don't want to know," Mr. Hosseini replied. " Whatever you Americans classify as abuse, I think."

Priscilla gasped, eyes widened. She turned to Preston who smirked while tapping his fingers together.

" Sounds perfect," he chimed. " My daughter needs a place that keeps wayward teens like her in line."

Priscilla grabbed her husband by the elbow.

" Excuse me," Priscilla interrupted. " I need to talk to my husband, alone."

She led Preston out of the room, leaving Pacifica with their guests. Soon, Preston and Priscilla began yelling at each other, arguing over their daughter's fate. Unfortunately, Preston won the argument by smacking Priscilla across the face, sending her to the floor. He walked back into the room, his wife stumbling after. They sat back down.

" Pacifica, you would be crazy not to sign that contract," Priscilla lied, trying to hold back her tears.

Pacifica eyed her mother, lingering on the large red mark on her face. She looked up at her father, who was rubbing his wrist.

" And if I refuse," Pacifica asked, looking him in the eye.

" You will be forced to live on the streets, carrying nothing but the clothes on your back," Preston manipulated, putting his hands on the table. " And don't say you will just go live with your commoner friends, because we will tell the police you've run away. You go live with them, they get in trouble for kidnapping. Understand?"

" As if you have any sway with the town's people anymore," Pacifica scoffed, pointing at him.

" We also have another way of getting rid of your friends and making sure you will never get your pathetic dream job, just in case that idea falls through," Preston stated with venom in his voice as he placed his hands on her shoulders. " You will be known as the runaway who committed mass murder in the town of Gravity Falls. There will be nowhere for you to go, except prison."

Preston let go of her and pulled back, smirking. Pacifica sighed in defeat and signed the contract. Before she knew it, she was on a plane headed for Afghanistan. When she got there, her in-laws began leading her to their mansion. After they reached their destination, they went inside. Mrs. Hosseini took off her burqa, revealing a huge scar down the side of her face. Pacifica's eyes widened.

" You don't have to wear that in here, if you don't want to," Mrs. Hosseini uttered, smiling.

Pacifica took off her burqa and hung it on a nearby coat rack. She looked around the room she was in. Expensive furniture and vases lined the stucco walls of the living room. On the floor was a rug, made from a Siberian tiger's pelt. There was also a fireplace in the living room. Above the mantel sat a portrait of a large, round clay building in Kabul. Next, she located a grand staircase, which broke off into three directions.

" So, where do I sleep," Pacifica asked.

" You'll see," Raja replied. "I'll take you there after dinner."

" Um, I'm kinda not feeling well," Pacifica lied, latching onto her stomach. " That turbulence from the plane must've wrecked my stomach."

" Well, in that case, I'll show you it right now," Raja stated, walking passed her.

He led her up the staircase, taking the middle hallway. The two passed several doors, until they reached the one at the end of the hall. Raja opened the door. Pacifica went inside and looked around in awe. It was bigger than her old room at Northwest Manor. The room contained a California King-sized canopy bed, three walk-in closets, a bathroom with a swimming pool and a Jacuzzi, and a living room.

" See you at dinner," Raja chimed then left, shutting the door behind her.

Pacifica walked over to the bed, laid down on it, and began crying. Soon, she fell asleep, missing dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

"Escape by Arabian Nightfall"

Chapter 2:

The next day, Pacifica sneaked out of the mansion and began exploring the nearby town. Her stomach growled. She had not eaten in over a day. The blonde began looking around, until she located a local fruit stand. Pacifica walked over to it.

" Excuse me," Pacifica uttered to the vender. " How much for a banana?"

" One Afghan Afghani, Hamshira," the vender replied as he prepared a sample plate.

Pacifica fished some money out of her pocket and gave the vender one Afghan Afghani. The vender took the money and gave her a banana.

" Enjoy," the vender chimed then turned back to his sample plate. " Oh, don't let the Afghan Hounds catch you without a man. They don't take too kindly to women who break tradition."

" The Afghan Hounds," Pacifica raised an eyebrow as she started peeling the banana open.

" Yes, they moved here about a month ago," the vender explained, shining an apple on his shirt before admiring it. " Been creating a lot of ruckus ever since Isis was thwarted. Be careful, Hamshira."

" Will do," Pacifica stated then continued walking down the street, taking in more sites.

The old buildings resembled giant sandcastles, only much more stable. In the buildings were a variety of shops, ranging from baked goods to fashion. Pacifica, missing her old clothes, walked into one of the fashion boutiques and looked around. All the clothes there looked like outfits her commoner friends in Gravity Falls would wear, or they were completely outdated. She sighed, left the fashion boutique, and headed further into town, taking a look at the modernized residential areas. Eventually, she got tired and decided to head back to the mansion. When she came home, she heard screaming coming from behind the door.

" You call this lunch," a man yelled, spitefully. " This is dog food. Make me another plate."

Suddenly, there was the sound of glass breaking against a wall.

" Sorry," a woman whimpered, sniffling.

It was Mr. and Mrs. Hosseini. Pacifica decided to take the back way in. Eventually, she reached her bedroom, where Raja was waiting for her. He was sitting on her bed with his arms folded.

" Where have you been," he asked impatiently. " You were supposed to be making lunch with Mammy."

" I stepped outside for some fresh air," Pacifica retorted, setting her purse down on the dresser. " Checked out the town while I was at it. Guess I'll have to do my shopping elsewhere."

" You went into town alone," Raja widened his eyes. " You could've been killed by the Afghan Hounds."

" Yeah, I heard about them from a local vender," Pacifica stated, pulling off her burqa. " I think I can handle them. After all, I helped my friends battle an intergalactic space demon back at home."

" You Americans do the weirdest things," Raja commented. " Anyway, where's my lunch? I'm starving."

" Oh, I don't do any cooking of any kind," Pacifica said with a wave of her hand. " That's the hired chef's job."

" Well, it is high time you start learning how, because you are a chef now," Raja demanded then grabbed her hand. " Follow me."

Raja led Pacifica into a large, opened kitchen with an island in the middle. At one of the counters stood Mrs. Hosseini. She was chopping up vegetables and putting them into a bowl.

" Mammy, could you show my wife how to cook," Raja requested. " She doesn't know how to."

" Sure," Mrs. Hosseini sniffled, pausing her work.

" You okay, Mrs. Hosseini," Pacifica tilted her head, worried.

" Oh, it's just the onions," Mrs. Hosseini fake laughed. " They always sting my eyes."

Pacifica glanced at the vegetables she was chopping up. There were no onions nearby.

" What are you making," she asked.

" Falafel," Mrs. Hosseini uttered then continued prepping. " Family recipe. Far too advanced for a beginner. I'll start you off with rice and chicken."

" Rice and chicken," Pacifica raised an eyebrow. " I thought we were in Afghanistan, not China."

Mrs. Hosseini laughed at her.

" You Americans and your jokes," Mrs. Hosseini chimed then walked over to the fridge.

She pulled out a couple of slabs of chicken and a bag of rice. Next, she walked over to the spice cabinet and pulled out some seasonings. She sat them down on the counter and began teaching Pacifica what she needed to know. Pacifica followed her instructions, served Raja then made a plate for herself.

" Not bad for your first try," Raja uttered, after swallowing the first bite. " A tad overcooked, but it's good."

" Thanks," Pacifica chimed then began eating what was on her plate.

After lunch was over, the family gathered in the living room for their afternoon prayer. Pacifica had no idea what anybody was saying. She knew a few foreign languages, but Arabic was not one of them. Once they were done with their afternoon prayer, Pacifica went to look up the local women's colleges. There were only five to choose from. Only one had fashion design courses and it was 50 miles away from where they lived. She checked to see if they offered online courses. The blonde groaned when she found out they were all in-person, meaning she would have a long drive to school and back. Pacifica sighed then began filling out the online application.

" Better than nothing," she mumbled, defeated.

Soon, it was bedtime. Pacifica was just about to nod off when she heard her bedroom door creak open. She sat up, wide eyed. Her husband was standing in the doorway. He grinned, blushing.

" Sorry," Raja apologized. " I didn't mean to frighten you."

" Raja, what are you doing in here," Pacifica asked, calming down.

" I was wondering," Raja started, closing the door behind him. " How many kids do you want?"

" None," Pacifica scoffed, rolling her eyes. " I'm terrible with children. Now, go back to bed."

She lied back down, throwing the covers over her head. Raja tugged the covers off of her.

"Hey," she snapped, glaring at him.

" Well, here in Afghanistan, you are to have as many children as you can," Raja stated. " I say we should get started on that now, shall we?"

" Um, no thanks," Pacifica retorted, hopping off the bed and pressing her back against the door. " I'd rather wait a few more years before we do any of that married couple stuff. After all, where I'm from, I'm considered underage. Also, I'd like to finish my schooling first."

" Alright, I will respect your wishes to wait," Raja surrendered then began leaving the room.

His posture was stiff. She walked back over to her bed, not taking her eyes off of him. Pacifica sat down on her bed and folded her arms. Raja, instead of leaving, locked the door. Suddenly, he turned around and charged at Pacifica, pinning her to the mattress. Pacifica screamed as he landed on top of her. He tore off her clothes then pulled down his pants. Next, he shoved his penis into her vagina and began thrusting his hips. Pacifica tried to call for help, but her pleas were blocked out by Raja's tongue going down her throat. She reached up to smack him, but he restrained both of her wrists and nibbled on her nipples. He began thrusting harder and faster, causing Pacifica to scream even more. Eventually, Raja climaxed, filling her vagina with semen. Once he was done, he got off of her and left the room, leaving a dazed and confused naked Pacifica.


	3. Chapter 3

"Escape by Arabian Nightfall"

Chapter 3:

Pacifica could not believe he did that to her. She felt so violated, so vulnerable, and so used. She sobbed herself to sleep every night now because of him. It did not help that Raja made frequent visits. She tried keeping him out by locking the door, but he always found a way in. Fortunately, Raja was sterile, so she never did get pregnant. However, he kept tearing up her clothes. Pacifica started sleeping in the nude from then on. It not only saved her clothes, but it also got him out of her room sooner. She also gave Raja blow jobs throughout the day when requested to lessen his feral side at night. It did not last long, for he grew more feral and demanded all kinds of sexual favors. Eventually, Pacifica got fed up and went into town to get a job just so she could get away from him. Unfortunately, nobody would hire her because Raja told them not to. Pacifica never got to finish her schooling, either. Raja forced her to drop out, because he wanted a housewife who cooked, cleaned, and sewed all day, not an educated, working wife like his father has. So, for the next six years, Pacifica was Cinderella by morning and sex slave by night.

Pacifica groaned at the memories then began tying a rope around the guardrail of the balcony. She took a deep breath then swung down to the ground. Next, she sneaked into the family's garage and walked over to the car her parents had sent overseas for her. She climbed in, started up the car, and pulled out of the garage. The blonde began heading for the airport. On the way there, she glanced into the rear-view mirror. Her bedroom light was turned on, which meant Raja was in there. Pacifica stomped on the gas pedal, tires kicking up sand as she sped off.

Eventually, she reached the airport. She had dual-citizenship, so all she had to do was show the crew her US passport and they let her on the plane. Several hours later, she was back in the States, in Portland, Oregon. From there, the blonde walked to the bus station and headed into a nearby phone booth. She pulled out her address book and started to make some phone calls, hoping to be picked up. Unfortunately, everybody she called hung up on her, even Candy and Grenda. After her last phone call, Pacifica sat outside of the phone booth and curled up in front of the door, bawling into her arms. She jumped when she heard a man clear his throat. Pacifica looked up, gasping. She recognized his face, but could not place the name.

" Excuse me," he tweeted, smiling. " I need to make a quick phone call."

" Oh, sorry," Pacifica stood up then went to move out of the way. " I'll, uh, go over here."

" It's alright," he chuckled then headed into the phone booth.

Pacifica eyeballed him more closely. She recognized the hair, too. The man picked up the phone and began dialing. He leaned against the glass window and sighed, pushing his bangs back. Her eyes widened at the site of the "Big Dipper" birthmark. She grinned. Soon, the man was done with his phone call and walked out of the booth.

" Dipper," Pacifica chimed, running up to him. " Dipper Pines, is that you?"

" Do I know you," Dipper raised an eyebrow, skeptically.

" It's me," Pacifica gestured to herself, eagerly. " Pacifica Northwest."

" Pacifica," Dipper said in surprise as he observed her apparel. " What happened to you? Mabel and I tried to call you, but your parents said they shipped you off to some boarding school in Switzerland and wouldn't be able to contact anybody, except them…We knew they were lying."

" Well, I actually got forced to marry some son of some oil tycoon in Afghanistan," Pacifica explained then slowly began crying again. " I just escaped for the first time last night…Oh, it was horrible, Dipper. I was beaten, scolded, raped…The worst part, I couldn't do anything about it at all…His parents wouldn't do anything about it, either….Not even the police would help me…They would call me a harlot and a bad wife then throw vinegar in my face."

" Aw, man," Dipper sighed, solemnly. " I'm so sorry. Look. I'm heading to Gravity Falls to visit my Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan, before my summer courses start. You can come with me, if you want."

" Yeah, I'd like that," she sniffled as she calmed down. " I don't have anywhere else to go anymore, except for RichieRichishbar and I am not going back there."

A bus ride later, Dipper and Pacifica managed to make it to Gravity Falls. They started walking to the Shack from the stop.

" So, where's your sister," Pacifica questioned, looking around. " I thought she'd be here, too."

" Mabel is traveling the world, right now," Dipper retorted, keeping his eyes on the trail. " Part of some foreign exchange student program. The last I checked, she was in Wales."

" Huh, who knew," Pacifica tweeted.

" I know, right," Dipper chuckled then scanned her wardrobe. " Do you have to wear that outfit everywhere you go?"

" I don't have anything else," Pacifica shrugged. " I outgrew the clothes I wore in high school and I wasn't allowed to wear what I wanted anyway."

" I'm sure Mabel has a few spare outfits at the Shack you can borrow," Dipper chirped. " She won't mind."

" And what makes you think her clothes will even fit me," Pacifica rolled her eyes.

" Hey, it's better than nothing," Dipper quipped.

" So, what courses are you taking," Pacifica questioned.

" Some media courses at Cal Tech," Dipper replied. " I would like to start my own Ghost Hunting show some day."

" Really," Pacifica raised her eyebrows. " Thought you would go into the science nerd stuff like your Grunkle Ford."

" Ghost hunting is technically a science," Dipper uttered, defensively. " Remember that lumberjack ghost and how I tracked him down? That was with science…We're here."

The two went inside the Shack through the gift shop entrance and looked around. There was not a soul in sight. They headed into the living room. Stan was asleep in his chair. Ford was at the table, tinkering with an invention. He looked up from his work, surprised.

" Pacifica, you're back," Ford paused as he scanned her outfit. " And you look like you just came straight out of Afghanistan."

" That's because I did," Pacifica responded with despondence. " It's a long story…So, Dipper? About those clothes?"

" Upstairs, in the attic bedroom," Dipper replied, pointing.

" Thanks," Pacifica hurried upstairs.

Once she reached the top of the stairs, she began looking for the attic bedroom. The door was wide open, so she went inside and began scanning the room until her eyes laid upon a dresser with stickers plastered all over it. She walked over to it and opened the drawers. They were all empty. Pacifica sighed then scanned the room again, until she spotted a closet door. She ran over to it and opened it. There was nothing but decades' old, moth ridden clothing. She growled, closed the door, and began searching through Dipper's side of the room. Eventually, she found a baggy t-shirt and a pair of cargo pants.

" They're guy clothes, but they'll do," Pacifica held them up.

She closed the door, changed clothes then went downstairs. Pacifica was just about to enter the living room when she heard Ford and Dipper talking.

" And that's what happened to her and now she has nowhere else to go," Dipper finished explaining. " So, is it alright if she stays here?"

" Considering the circumstances, I'm afraid I can't refuse," Ford replied, adjusting his glasses. " So, yes. She can stay here, but no hanky panky. This is not a flop house."

" Grunkle Ford, I'm still dating Wendy," Dipper countered. " That won't be an issue. Besides, she's technically still married."

" I still can't believe you took her back, after what she did to you," Ford went back to his work.

" Somebody drugged her at the bar," Dipper argued, pacing. " She had no control of that situation what-so-ever."

" She still slept with another guy behind your back," Ford rebutted then paused to look up. " Speaking of, you didn't…"

" No, I didn't," Dipper interrupted, stopping. " I want to wait until we're married first."

" Good boy," Ford uttered then glanced back down, going back to work. " Dipper, don't get me wrong. Wendy is a sweet girl and all, but her choices are questionable. If she's not partying, she's robbing vending machines. If she's not robbing vending machines, she's hot wiring police cars. If she's not doing that, she's trespassing on condemned, private property. She's wild."

" That's Wendy for you and I'm okay with that," Dipper stated, smirking.

" Dipper, one of these days she is going to drag you down with her," Ford pointed with a screw driver. " Not on purpose, but because you are affiliated with her."

" That's a risk I'm willing to take," Dipper folded his arms.

Pacifica used this as an opportunity to enter the room. The men looked over at her. Dipper widened his eyes.

" I couldn't find Mabel's clothes, so I'm borrowing yours," Pacifica uttered, grinning. " I hope that's alright."

" Um, I guess," Dipper stuttered, glancing at the borrowed outfit. " Don't let Wendy see you in them, though."

" Oh, I don't plan on wearing them for too long," Pacifica scoffed, turning her nose up. " I'm planning on going to the mall and buying myself clothes that don't smell like cologne and make me look like a butch. And by "I", I mean you. Oh, and get me some hair dye while you're at it. I don't want my parents to know I'm here…This should cover it."

Pacifica chucked a wad of cash at Dipper, who caught it. Dipper looked at the wad of cash, counting it up. There was over a thousand bucks.

" No cheap knock-offs," Pacifica demanded, wagging a finger at him. " They make me itchy. I only wear designer clothes made in France and Italy. No cheap hair dye, either. I don't want anything that kills my hair, fades in two days, and makes me look like Ronald McDonald."

Dipper sighed then left the shack, wondering if helping her was such a good idea. A few hours later, he returned with three new outfits and a box of hair dye. He gave them to Pacifica, who muttered a thanks then went into the bathroom to change. Pacifica closed the door behind her then looked in the mirror. She had scars all over her face from untreated acne and abuse, her hair had dead ends and knots, and her once pearly white teeth were now stained with a few missing in the front. Pacifica placed her hand on the mirror as she continued staring at her reflection. She froze, her breathing halting. Suddenly, she grabbed Mabel's hairbrush off the counter and tossed it at the mirror, shattering it and cutting herself in the process. She fell to the floor, weeping. Soon, she heard a knock on the door and stopped.

" Pacifica, is everything okay in there," Dipper asked, concerned. " I heard something break."

Pacifica did not reply. Dipper knocked again, worriedly.

" Pacifica," He shouted.

" I'm fine," Pacifica's voice stammered as she slowly stood up, wiping her eyes. " Just tripped over the floor mat."

" Are you sure," Dipper questioned, suspicious.

Pacifica looked at herself in the remaining shards of the mirror then looked down at the sink and the floor. There were shards everywhere, including all over her new clothes. Next, she looked down at her arms and hands, where the newly fresh cuts from the glass laid.

" Pacifica," He shouted again, knocking.

Pacifica glanced at the door then began attempting to clean up her mess, getting more cuts in the process. She threw whatever glass she could pick up into the trash can then draped a towel over the mirror. Next, she turned on the sink and began cleaning her cuts, sniffling.

" That's it," Dipper hollered. "I'm coming in."

" No, don't come," Pacifica began shouting, but it was too late.

Dipper had already opened the door. He looked around, shock written on his face. Next, he looked over at Pacifica, who was now facing him, frozen in fear. The towel fell off of the mirror behind her, revealing its condition. Dipper looked at the broken mirror then back at her, noting the fresh wounds. He began walking toward her. Pacifica put her hands in front of her face, turning away and shaking. Dipper walked passed her, taking a better look at the mirror.

" Grunkle Stan," Dipper yelled. " The bathroom mirror is broken."

" Again," Stan questioned then barked. " I just replaced that mirror. Who broke it this time?"

" Pacifica," Dipper replied. " She slipped and fell into it."

" Ugh," Stan groaned in frustration. " I'll get the broom, but you're cleaning it up. She's your guest."

" Noted," Dipper responded then turned to find Pacifica had ran out of the bathroom, leaving her belongings behind.


	4. Chapter 4

"Escape by Arabian Nightfall"

Chapter 4:

Pacifica was sitting on the floor in the attic closet, weeping. Dipper called for her, but she did not answer. Eventually, he found her.

" There you are," Dipper sighed in relief. " What happened back there? Are you alright?"

" The mirror," she muttered, shakily.

" Yeah, don't worry about it," Dipper chuckled, rolling his eyes. " I've broken it, like, three times. Mabel has broken it about five times. It happens."

" Ugly," she whispered, whimpering.

" It was an ugly mirror, wasn't it," Dipper uttered, laughing again.

" I'm ugly," she sniffled.

" Pacifica, don't be ridiculous," Dipper kneeled next to her, his tone serious. " You're not ugly."

" I'm hideous," she covered her eyes, sobbing more.

" Pacifica, it was an accident," he placed a hand on her shoulder.

" Don't hurt me, please," she screamed as she hastily backed away from him, putting her hands in front of her face. " I beg you."

Dipper recoiled and Pacifica wrapped her arms around her knees, bawling into them. It was then Dipper pieced together exactly what happened. The broken mirror? The randomly placed cuts? The glass shard he found in the hairbrush? Pacifica running off and hiding? It was so obvious now. He approached her quietly, gently wrapping an arm around her. Pacifica wrapped her arms around him, crying into his shoulder.

" Kids, time for dinner," Ford shouted from downstairs.

" We'll be down in a few," Dipper hollered back then looked down at Pacifica.

Pacifica continued bawling. A half hour later, Pacifica calmed down. After she calmed down, the two went down to the kitchen, where Stan and Ford waited for them. Neither of them had touched their food, yet. Dipper sat down next to Stan, allowing Pacifica to sit next to Ford. She wiped her eyes, her arms folded.

" Now can we eat," Stan grumbled, impatiently.

" Yes, Stanley," Ford retorted with an annoyed sigh. " Now we can eat."

" Good," Stan began scarfing down everything on his plate.

" Ugh," Ford rolled his eyes then began eating normally, watching Dipper and Pacifica from the corner of his eye.

Dipper was looking down at his plate, moving his food around with his fork. Pacifica just stared at the table, while continually wiping her bloodshot eyes. Ford sat his fork down then looked over at his brother, who was now licking his plate clean. Stan glanced up at his brother then sat the plate down. He nodded his head, a stern expression on his face. The two left the kitchen, leaving Dipper and Pacifica alone. Dipper glanced up at Pacifica. She picked up her plate and began making her way over to the trashcan.

" You can stick that in the fridge, you know," Dipper suggested. " Save it for later."

" Oh, right," Pacifica headed over to the fridge and stuck her plate inside. " I'm going to bed."

She left the kitchen, not even bothering to spare the men a single glance or utter a simple thanks. Pacifica crawled into Mabel's old bed, pulling the covers over her head. Next, she cried herself to sleep. Soon, she was woken up by the sound of yelling. She sat up and looked around, until she spotted Raja. He was standing in the doorway of the attic room, arms folded. He started approaching her, his hands balled into fists and his expression filled with rage.

" Pacifica, there you are," Raja shouted. " I've been looking all over for you. Come. You're going back home with me."

" Raja," she widened her eyes as she climbed out of bed, trying to avoid him. " How did you find me?"

" Your parents gave me the addresses to your friends' homes," Raja kept trying to get to her. " Now, come. My parents are waiting."

" No," Pacifica screamed as she started chucking objects at him, while backing away. " I can't. I won't. I refuse."

" I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Hamshira," he smirked, dodging the objects and catching one. " You are married to me, ergo you are my property and must do as I say."

Pacifica backed into the window. She looked behind her and opened it.

" Not if I do this," Pacifica leaped out the window without hesitation.

Suddenly, everything went dark. Seconds later, Pacifica hastily sat up in bed, gasping. She looked around the room, calming down. The blonde flopped back down, staring at the ceiling.

" He's not here," Pacifica muttered to herself. " I'm safe. He's not here. I'm safe. He's not here. I'm safe."

She glanced over at Dipper's bed. Dipper was sound asleep with his cellphone in his hand. It dropped onto the floor with a thud. He rolled over, facing the wall. Pacifica sat up then climbed out of bed, walking over to the other side of the room. She picked up the phone, took it over to her side of the room then began scrolling through it, trying to keep her mind off the nightmare.

" Ewww," She winced in disgust at a nude picture Wendy texted to Dipper the day before he found her in Portland. " I did not need to see that."

Next, she found a nude picture Dipper texted to Wendy in response.

" Whoa," Pacifica commented, grinning. " Nice body, Dipper. Purrrr."

Dipper stirred in his sleep, rolling over onto his back. She paused and looked over at him. He continued sleeping. Pacifica kept scrolling until she found his most recent text messages. Some were to Mabel and some were to Wendy, expressing concerns over Pacifica.

" She must have PTSD, Dude," Wendy's reply said. " Keep a close eye on her."

" I will," Dipper's reply said.

" I wish I was over there, so I could give her a great big hug and a new sweater," Mabel's response said. " Hope she gets better soon."

" Mabel, PTSD isn't something that one gets over," Dipper's reply stated. " It's there for life, but thank you."

Pacifica exited out of the text messages then began surfing the internet, looking at clothes and shoes. Eventually, she went back to sleep. Soon, morning came. Pacifica woke up and looked around, making sure she was not having another nightmare. Fortunately, she was not. She was alone in the room and the phone was gone, however. Pacifica climbed out of bed and went downstairs, not bothering to change clothes or brush her hair. She walked into the kitchen, where Stan, Ford, Dipper and Wendy sat, eating breakfast. Wendy looked up.

" Well, good morning," Wendy chimed, smiling.

" Morning," she mumbled, sitting down.

She ate her breakfast then went back upstairs.

" We got the glass out of your clothes," Dipper shouted after her. " They should be safe to wear now. I left them on the dresser for you."

Pacifica went back into the bedroom. She spotted the clothes on the dresser and walked over to them. Pacifica picked an outfit, grabbed the dark brown hair dye, picked up what looked like a brand new hair brush, and went into the upstairs bathroom. She sat her stuff down and looked in the mirror again. Pacifica sighed then proceeded to get ready for the day. It took three hours, but she was bathed, shaved, had her teeth brushed, her hair was dyed, cut and brushed, and she was dressed in her favorite clothes. She also had enough make-up to cover up the scars. Pacifica took one more look at her appearance. She smiled then went back downstairs. Everybody was watching TV when she entered the living room. They looked over at her, confused.

" Well, what do you think," she asked.

" You look a lot better," Wendy uttered.

" I feel better, kinda," Pacifica said, sitting down on the floor. " So, do you think people around here will recognize me?"

" Doubt it," Ford stated. " I almost didn't recognize you. Still, be careful when you go out."

" Oh, I'm not going out any time soon," Pacifica uttered, shaking her head. " I want to keep my head down for a while before becoming the "new comer" in Gravity Falls."

There was a knock at the door.

" I'll get it," Stan stood up from his recliner then walked over to the door, answering it.

At the door stood Pacifica's parents. They both looked panicked.

" Have you seen Pacifica," Priscilla asked, tearing up. " Her school reported her missing and we think she may have come back home."

" No, I haven't," Stan shook his head. " But we'll keep an eye out for her, though. If we see anything, we'll call you."

" Oh, thank you, Mr. Pines," Preston chimed, shaking Stan's hand. " Thank you."

" So, where was the last place she was seen," Stan questioned, after yanking his hand back.

" In her dorm," Priscilla sniffled. " Her roommate was the last one to see her."

" We've tried calling our lodge there, but nobody answered," Preston stated, pulling at his hair. " The place is empty."

" Maybe she's planning a surprise visit," Stan shrugged, grinning. " Probably on her way to Gravity Falls right now."

" We hope that's the case," Priscilla said, sniffling some more. " If anything happened to our little girl, I don't know what we'd do."

" Grunkle Stan," Dipper shouted. " Grunkle Ford needs your help with something."

" Well, I should get going," Stan stated, looking behind him. " My brother needs me. Take care now."

He closed the door and turned to the group.

" He knows I'm here," Pacifica stood up, face turning pale. " I should've known."


	5. Chapter 5

"Escape by Arabian Nightfall"

Chapter 5:

" Hey," Dipper walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. " It's okay. He may know you're in Gravity Falls, but he has no idea you're with us."

" True," Pacifica uttered then looked in the mirror on the wall, taking a second look at her new appearance. " Ugh! I still look like me, but with short, brown hair! Ford lied!"

" I can help you with that," Wendy walked over to Pacifica. " I did movie make-up for a couple of years at the New York Film Academy. Nobody could recognize the actors at all."

" You're not going to make me into, like, a werewolf or anything, right," Pacifica raised an eyebrow at her, while pointing.

Wendy chuckled, " No, but I am willing to make you younger, older, look like somebody else, or do a total custom job. My supplies are all the way back east, though, so I'll have to buy a new kit and they aren't cheap."

" How much are they," Pacifica asked.

" About a thousand dollars, and that's for the stuff that actually works that doesn't leave rashes," Wendy stated.

" In that case, I'll buy it," Pacifica offered. "Consider it your reward for helping me out."

" Sounds good to me," Wendy smiled.

The next day, Pacifica gave Wendy the money to buy the make-up kit. Wendy put the money in a secret pocket under her hat and headed off to town in her car, observing her surroundings on the way. A couple of hours later, she returned with the kit, leftover change, and a grin.

" So, who's ready for a make-over," Wendy asked, holding the kit up.

" I am," Pacifica tweeted as she ran over to Wendy.

" My studio is this way," Wendy gestured upstairs.

Both of the women giggled and headed to the attic room. Wendy sat the kit down on Mabel's dresser then turned to Pacifica.

" So, what exactly are we going for here," Wendy placed her hands on her hips.

" I just don't want anybody to recognize me, so a custom job, I guess," Pacifica shrugged.

" You got it, Dude," Wendy pointed a finger at her, winking.

She opened the kit and began digging out supplies. After she got the supplies she needed, she went to work, starting with pulling Pacifica's hair back. Wendy's eyes widened at the large scar across her forehead. Pacifica noticed her staring.

" What," Pacifica snapped, glaring.

" Nothing," Wendy stuttered then began applying the make-up.

A few hours later, Wendy stepped out of the way of the mirror, letting Pacifica see. Her skin was a few shades darker, she had eyes shaped like a cat's, her nose was round at the end, her eyebrows were thicker, and her lips were thin with dark red lipstick. Wendy let Pacifica's hair loose.

" So, what do you think," Wendy questioned.

" I love it," Pacifica chimed as she gazed into the mirror. " Nobody will recognize me now, except for the hair."

" I wouldn't worry too much about the hair," Wendy commented, swatting her hand in the air. " I've seen several girls with that same haircut."

" Still, it could easily be a dead giveaway," Pacifica leaned toward the mirror, fluffing her hair underneath. " Maybe if I curl it…"

" It's up to you, Bud," Wendy shrugged. " If it makes you feel safer, do it."

Pacifica reached for the iron and curled her hair. She grinned at the finished product.

" Perfect," Pacifica beamed.

A few weeks later, Pacifica decided to leave the Shack. However, she hesitated once she reached the front door. She recoiled her hand, sighed, and closed her eyes tight.

" You can do this, Northwest," she murmured to herself. " Wendy made sure no one would recognize you. Everything's going to be okay."

Pacifica opened her eyes then reached for the knob, opening the door. She put one foot outside and looked around. Images of the Afghan Hounds throwing vinegar and stones at her flooded her mind. Her breath hitched. She pulled her leg back in and slammed the door shut.

" Maybe in a few more days," she muttered, sweat rolling down her forehead.

Soon, it was the middle of the summer. Pacifica was up two nights in a row barfing, waking everybody up in the process. The woman was rushed to the hospital against her will the following morning. A doctor and a nurse rushed to her aide seconds after she had been admitted and began examining her. Pacifica lied on the gurney, nervous they would find out who she is and contact her folks. Her thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind when the doctor entered the room.

" Mrs. Pines, we have finished running the tests," she smiled. " It turns out, you are expecting. Congratulations, Mrs. Pines."

" Expecting," Pacifica's eyes widened as her voice raised. " What? No. No. No. No. No. No."

" Is something wrong, Mrs. Pines," the doctor asked, taken aback. " Normally, expecting mothers are happy to hear this news."

" Oh, me," Pacifica forced a smile then began laughing nervously. " Yes, I'm happy. Just not happy with the timing, is all. So much to do and so little time, you know."

" I see," the doctor raised an eyebrow suspiciously. " Well, you are free to go, Mrs. Pines. However, I would like to see you for periodic checkups. Make sure the baby is coming along okay."

" Okay," Pacifica chimed then sped out of the hospital, paying the bill as she left. " There you go. Hope it's enough. Thanks. Bye."

Eventually, she arrived back at the Mystery Shack, closing and locking the door behind her. She leaned against the door, catching her breath. Dipper entered the room from the kitchen, eating a pudding cup.

" So, what did the doctor say," Dipper asked then pointed the spoon at her. " Nice gown, by the way."

Pacifica looked down, now realizing she was still wearing a hospital gown. She blushed in embarrassment and covered herself with her arms. The woman looked back up at him.

" Nothing," She lied. " Just a little flu bug. I'll be over it soon."

" First off, it's summer," Dipper ate another spoonful of pudding. " The flu only pops up between mid-fall and mid-spring. Second, if it were the flu, you would be barfing during the day in addition to nights and you wouldn't be able to walk due to all kinds of other symptoms. Nice try. What's really going on?"

" Can I, uh, get dressed, first," Pacifica requested, nervously. " I don't like my rear end hanging out in the open for all to see. They really don't need to know what color underwear I am wearing."

" Um, sure," Dipper reluctantly agreed.

Pacifica ran upstairs, locking herself in the attic room. She changed into her normal clothes then sprawled out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The faux brunette covered her eyes with her hands, letting out a deep sigh.

" Figures," she groaned. " Six years and no pregnancy. I finally manage to leave the country and he knocks me up before I leave. That…That harami!"

Pacifica sat up and shrieked in anger, throwing a shoe across the room. The shoe hit Dipper's bulletin board, knocking it down. A crash was heard. Pacifica's eyes widened. She ran toward the direction of the sound. She shifted through objects before she found a crushed cardboard box with a bulletin board on top. The woman moved it aside then opened the box. Inside were artifacts Dipper had collected during his adventures in Gravity Falls. Most were fine, but a few did not survive. One of them was an amulet, another was a small vase with otherworldly markings, and another was an enchanted camera from the 1880s that looked like a disposal camera from the 1990s. Pacifica bit her lip and attempted to mask the mess. A shadow stood behind her.

" What the heck happened up here," Dipper's voice questioned in shock.

Pacifica rapidly turned around and dropped the bulletin board she was hanging, meeting Dipper's confused gazed. Dipper looked at the smashed up box then walked over to it, kneeling. He peered inside, picking up the pieces of the broken vase, jaw dropping. Pacifica watched him, her lower lip trembling.

" It was an accident," her voice croaked as tears began forming in her eyes. " I didn't mean to break them. I'm…I'm sorry."

" This is what I get for not putting these in Ford's lab," Dipper commented to himself then dropped the pieces back in.

He closed the box, put it on his bed then turned to Pacifica. Pacifica flinched then backed against the wall, turning her face away. She squeezed her eyes shut.

" Please don't hurt me," she sobbed, loudly. " Please. Please. Please. Please. Plea-ea-ease. I'll give you whatever you want. Just don't hurt me."

Dipper's expression went from calm to confused to concerned. He went to approach her. Pacifica opened one of her eyes then tightly closed it again, shaking.

" I'm pregnant," she shouted, causing Dipper to freeze in his tracks.

Pacifica realized what she said then pushed passed Dipper, running down the stairs. She passed Ford on the way down.

" Where are you going," Ford asked, raising an eyebrow.

" I'm leaving," Pacifica responded, grabbing her coat and purse. " I can't stay here any longer."

She put on her coat, slung her purse over her shoulder then headed back outside, slamming the door behind her. Ford went to protest, but it was too late. Dipper then stormed down the stairs, almost knocking him over.

" Whoa," Ford stumbled then regained his balance using the guardrail. " Watch it."

" Sorry, Great Uncle Ford," Dipper opened the door to a heavy rainfall.

He saw a blurred out version of Pacifica dash into the forest, followed by several flashes of lightning. Dipper went to follow her, but Ford grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back.

" Dipper, no," Ford protested. " Not you, too."

" But we have to go after her," Dipper turned back to him, arguing.

" Not in this weather, you're not," Ford rebutted. " Now, come back inside. We'll find her once the storm clears out. That, or she'll retreat back to the house."

Dipper sighed then stepped back inside, closing the door.


	6. Chapter 6

"Escape by Arabian Nightfall"

Chapter 6:

Meanwhile, Pacifica was running through the forest, dodging branches and jumping over mud puddles. The rain, combined with her tears, were starting to fog her vision, however. Suddenly, she tripped over a tree root and found herself face down in the mud. She slid down a steep hill and into a nearby river. Pacifica struggled, confusion clouding her mind, before finding the surface. She tried keeping her head above the water, but the current kept slamming her down to the floor and into the rocks. Next, a large log floated by. Her eyes widened and she began paddling as hard as she could, chasing the log. Pacifica latched onto the log and pulled herself onto it, resting on her stomach. She coughed the water out of her lungs. The woman then fell asleep, exhaustion taking over.

Pacifica woke up when the log bumped into something. She looked up to see a boat dock in front of her face.

" Ugh…Where am I," she questioned then looked around.

It was dark out, so it was difficult to tell. The rain stopped, though. Pacifica pulled herself onto the log until she was sitting on it then began looking for a nearby ladder or post to grab onto. Fortunately, she was able to find a ladder. Pacifica paddled the log over to it then snagged the rung of the ladder, pulling herself up and off of the log. She climbed up the ladder and onto the dock. Pacifica whipped her phone out of her zippable pocket and turned on the flashlight feature.

" Good thing this is waterproof," she murmured as she tried figuring out her location.

She walked from the deck and onto the shore, shining her flashlight everywhere.

Pacifica stopped scanning the area when she saw a familiar sign.

" Lake Gravity Falls," Pacifica read, surprised. " I'm still in Gravity Falls?"

" Pacifica," a male's voice shouted.

" Pacifica," a deeper voice yelled.

" Pacifica," a more feminine voice hollered.

" Pacifica, we've got money and jewelry," a gruff voice bellowed.

" No, we don't, Stan," the feminine voice scoffed.

" Dipper," Pacifica had a puzzled look on her face then gasped, shouting as she waved her arms in the air. " Dipper! Stan! Ford! Wendy! Guys, over here!"

A flash of light peered from around the corner of the boat rental hunt. Pacifica continued waving her cellphone in the air, keeping the flashlight on.

" Over here," she shouted.

The group rounded the corner.

" There you are," Wendy stated, relieved.

" See, Stanley," Ford elbowed Stan in the ribs, glaring at him. " I told you that river would lead down here."

" Yeah, yeah," Stan rolled his eyes, rubbing his side." You want to deposit a quarter into the smarty show off jar?"

" Pacifica, are you alright," Dipper asked, worried.

" I'm fine," Pacifica replied, putting her phone away. " Nothing my body can't replace. Lost my purse, though."

Pacifica then started coughing, followed by a sneeze.

" We better get you back to the Shack," Wendy draped her jacket over Pacifica's shoulders.

The group headed back to the Shack in the Stanley Mobile. Soon, they arrived and went inside. Stan and Ford went into the kitchen to warm up some hot chocolate, Dipper and Wendy went into the living room to watch TV, and Pacifica went upstairs to sleep. The following morning, Pacifica's purse was found by the police and reported to the local news station.

" This just in, former resident Pacifica Northwest was reported missing several weeks ago by her parents," Shandra announced. " She was last seen by her roommate at the University of Geneva. No evidence of her whereabouts has occurred until this morning."

A picture of Pacifica's purse appeared on the television screen. Her purse was saturated in water with mud stains all over it.

" Police have found Pacifica's photo ID and a large sum of money inside, suggesting she planned a trip here," Shandra continued. " Pacifica, however, is yet to be found. If you have any information, please contact the Gravity Falls Police Department. Back to you, Toby."

" This just in, the Northwests have decided to throw their annual Northwest Fest at the Beaver Lodge Inn in honor of their daughter's return," Toby announced. " Everyone is invited this year. Invitations go out today. The party is tomorrow. Tad Strange with the weather."

" Today's weather will be partly cloudy," Tad Strange started, but Stan turned off the TV.

" Northwest Fest," Dipper raised an eyebrow. " I thought they stopped doing that after losing the manor."

" They did," Pacifica retorted.

" Gotta be a trap then," Dipper uttered.

" We're going," Pacifica stated after pondering a moment.

" What," Dipper turned to her, bewildered.

" We're going," Pacifica repeated, standing up. " I've been hiding for way too long. Time to put my disguise to the ultimate test."

The next day, the gang dressed up in their fanciest clothes and went to the party. The entire town was there, along with the millionaire and billionaire friends of the Northwests. Three of them were the Hosseinis. Mr. Hosseini and Preston were over by the fireplace, chatting and laughing. Mrs. Hosseini stood quietly by her husband's side, hidden under her burqa. Raja was standing next to her, arms folded and glaring at the floor. Preston looked over at the Pines family, smiled and walked over to them.

" Ah, welcome," Preston greeted. " Glad you could make it."

" We're just here to take pictures for Mabel," Stan prevaricated. " She's in Wales and couldn't make the party, so we're filling in for her."

" Splendid," Preston chimed. " So, have you seen Pacifica yet?"

" No, I haven't," Stan replied.

" Not yet," Ford retorted.

" Nope," Dipper answered.

" Nuh-uh," Wendy shook her head.

Pacifica shook her head. Preston noticed the stranger standing next to them.

" And who is this," Preston gestured toward Pacifica.

" This is my cousin," Dipper wrapped an arm around Pacifica's shoulder. " Penelope Pines."

" Penelope Pines," Pacifica tweeted. " Nice to meet you, Mr…."

" Northwest," Preston finished. " And nice to meet you, Mrs. Pines, is it?"

" Yes, it is," Pacifica fibbed. " Just got married into the family not too long ago."

" Ah, so by cousin, he meant cousin-in-law," Preston stated.

" Exactly," Pacifica fake grinned.

" So, where are you from," Preston asked.

" I'm from Seattle, Washington," Pacifica spoke the first place that came to mind. " Figured I would pop by Gravity Falls and get to know the Pines side of the family a little better."

" They are a, um, interesting bunch," Preston hesitated then looked around. " Now where on Earth did Priscilla run off to?"

" Who," Pacifica raised an eyebrow.

" My wife," Preston answered then began walking away, troubled. " Excuse me."

Pacifica's fake smile faltered into a death glare. She hissed something under her breath then turned to the group.

" Well, what are you standing around for," Pacifica shrugged then grinned. " Let's party."

Dipper and Wendy took off to the dance floor, while Stan and Ford went over to the snack table. Pacifica began walking around the lodge, looking at the decor. Her parents got the most expensive and fanciest decorations, as usual. They even managed to get the guy who played music for them at the other Northwest Fests. The food selection, however, was upgraded to make up for the less-than-luxurious location. Her parents certainly regained their wealthy status while she was gone, but could not get McGucket to sell Northwest Manor back to them or put them in his will, so they had to make do with what they could get. Pacifica grabbed a fondue fork, poked it into a strawberry, and dipped it into the chocolate fountain. Next, she dipped the chocolate coated strawberry into the cheese fountain. After that, she began eating the cheese covered chocolate strawberry. Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder and spun around, her mouth still full. It was Raja. Her eyes widened, but she continued chewing.

" Excuse me, Miss," Raja chimed then held out his hand. "May I have this dance?"

Pacifica glanced down at his hand, looked back up at his face then swallowed.

" Get in line, Pal," Pacifica snapped then turned back to the fountain, getting another fondue dipped strawberry.

Raja stood between her and the fountain, arms stretched out.

" I can't help but be enchanted by both your beauty and your bold spirit," Raja tweeted then bowed. " It would be an honor to dance with a woman of such taste."

" Look, Buster," Pacifica poked him in the nose.

" It's Raja," Raja stood up, rubbing his nose.

" Maybe nobody told you this, but I'm happily married," Pacifica huffed. " Sorry."

" Hey, I'm married, too," Raja uttered. " Maybe we could work out a compromise. I am looking for a second wife, preferably to cook for me and provide me with lots of heirs. My first wife is, uh, bad at both. I don't think she'll mind the extra set of hands. What? It's Afghanistan. It's what we do."

Pacifica gave him a disgusted look then slapped him across the face, knocking him to the floor. Raja placed his hand on his cheek, feeling a familiar sensation. She turned around and stormed off. Pacifica went into the ladies' room and looked into the mirror, sighing. She turned her head when she heard sniffling coming from a nearby stall. Pacifica saw a purple dress with black high heels underneath. It was her mother. She rolled her eyes.

" Excuse me, Ma'am," Pacifica feigned concern. " Are you okay?"

" No, I am not okay," Priscilla sobbed. " My daughter was supposed to be here, but I don't see her. I think she drowned in the same river they found her purse in."

" Oh, you must Pacifica's mother," Pacifica said. " I'm Penelope Pines. Nah. I'm sure she's fine. Probably just running a little late, or couldn't come because she lost her purse."

" Yes, that is probably it," Priscilla hiccupped. " I still can't help but worry, though."

" Speaking of worrying, your husband is looking for you," Pacifica stated.

" Oh, as if he really cares a wit about me," Priscilla scoffed as she exited the stall and approached the mirror, checking her hair and makeup. " The man never listens to a word I say. And what's worse? He only talks to me if he needs something. If I refuse, he forces me to comply. He used to be so much nicer when we first met."

Priscilla pulled her makeup out of her purse and began fixing her face. Pacifica's face saddened.

" I'm really sorry to hear that, Mrs. Northwest," Pacifica paused then widened her eyes. " Why are you telling me this? Shouldn't you be out there giving him a piece of your mind?"

" I've tried," Priscilla admitted, re-curling her eyelashes. " It's his way or the highway. That includes Pacifica's upbringing. I've had no say in anything about how to raise her, except for when it came to clothes, hair, and make-up."

" What a shame," Pacifica sighed. " I hope it all comes back to bite him some day and he'll, in return, become a better person."

" I hope the same," Priscilla said, putting her makeup back in her purse.

" Well, I better get back to my family," Pacifica began, making Priscilla turn to her. " They're going to think I fell in and try to rescue me. Talk about embarrassing."

Priscilla started laughing then turned back to the mirror. Pacifica chortled as she left the bathroom. The wealthy woman stopped chuckling when she heard Pacifica's laugh, raising an eyebrow.

" Hmm," she pondered then shook her head. " Nah. Couldn't be."


	7. Chapter 7

"Escape by Arabian Nightfall"

Chapter 7:

Pacifica weeded her way through the crowd, trying to find the Pines. She stopped when she spotted Raja talking to her father. He gestured to the mark on his face, rubbing his cheek. Preston eyed it, placing a hand on his chin. She widened her eyes then headed another direction. Pacifica stopped once again. Her mother came out of the bathroom. She headed toward Preston, a pondering expression on her face. Priscilla glanced at random people in the crowd as she walked by. Pacifica switched directions again, bumping into Wendy and Dipper.

" Ooof," they yelped as they collided.

" My parents are getting suspicious," Pacifica urged, worry lines appearing under her eyes. " We have to get out of here, now."

" I'll go find Stan and Ford," Dipper took charge then turned to Wendy. " Wendy, stay with…erm… Penelope."

Dipper disappeared into the crowd. The women danced while waiting for him to come back, so as not to draw attention to themselves. Soon, Dipper came back with Stan and Ford. The group began leaving. Suddenly, all the lights shut off, except for one. It was shining on Preston.

" May I have your attention, please," Preston announced, hammy as usual. " We have decided to add something new to our entertainment for the night. It is called "Dodge the Punch". Now, we have hung a series of punch bowls up in the rafters. Each punch bowl will be dumped simultaneously by a member of our staff. If you dodge the punch bowl, you get one million dollars. If not…Well, we'll foot the bill for your dry cleaning. The game starts now. Enjoy."

The crowd muttered amongst themselves. Next, there were splashing sounds, followed by screaming coming from different parts of the building. Soon, the lights came back on. Several people were drenched in punch, including…

" Pacifica, Sweetie, glad you could make it," Preston faked joy then gestured at his entire face. " Eh. You have something here."

Pacifica glared up at him, yanking the punch bowl off of her head and tossing it onto the floor. The punch had washed off enough makeup to expose her. Preston approached her, putting his hands behind his back. He scanned her up and down.

" Well, aren't you going to say "Hi" to your dear old Dad," Preston chimed, only to be met with silence. " What? We thought you wanted to surprise everybody here. Could you at least say "Surprise"?"

Pacifica was still silent. Priscilla stood next to Preston and nodded, giving a nervous smile.

" Um…," Pacifica hesitated then stated with a begrudged tone. " Surprise…"

Raja pushed his way through the crowd of people, shock on his face.

" Pacifica," Raja raised an eyebrow.

Pacifica glanced down at her feet then looked back up, hate still lingering in her eyes. Raja glowered at her then latched onto her wrist, squeezing it.

" Ow," Pacifica squeaked. " Ow. Ow. Ow."

" Come," Raja demanded then began tugging her behind him. " We must go back to Afghanistan at once."

She tugged back.

" No," Pacifica pulled her hand away, venom in her voice.

Raja slapped her across the face, earning gasps from her friends.

" What did you say to me," he hollered then slapped her again before she could answer, earning gasps and stares from the rest of the party-goers. " You know the rules. Nobody ever says no to me. I am the king of the household. You are my wife. You are to serve and obey me."

He slapped her once more and then again.

" Do I make myself clear," He kicked her in the stomach, knocking her onto the floor.

Pacifica clutched her stomach, bawling. Raja kicked her again.

" Don't cry," Raja hollered then kicked her again. " I hate crying. Why are you crying?"

" Stop," Pacifica pleaded while looking up, tears pouring down her face. "Please."

Raja went to attack her again. Pacifica braced for impact, but the blow never came. She glanced back up. Her father had his arms wrapped tightly around Raja, who squirmed in his grasp. Preston then pinned him to the floor, pushing his elbow against his back, while twisting one of Raja's arms.

" Lay a hand on her like that again and I will see to it your family goes from riches to rags in a heartbeat, young man," Preston growled.

Raja stopped struggling. His parents approached the location of the commotion. Their expressions became baffled at the sight in front of them. Preston looked up at them, smiling.

" I'd like a refund and my daughter back, please," Preston requested then frowned. " And I would like them both right now, or else…"

Mr. Hosseini turned to his wife, nervously. Mrs. Hosseini looked back at him. They both turned to Preston.

" We'll see what we can do," he tweeted, giving a shaky smile.

A few weeks later, Pacifica was back at her parents' home. She sat in her room, in front of her vanity. Her mom stood behind her, brushing her hair. Pacifica clutched her stomach as tears leaked out of her bag-laden eyes.

" Pacifica, it's been almost a month and you still haven't slept or eaten anything," Priscilla stated, concerned.

" How can I," Pacifica muttered in a hoarse voice. " He killed our child. No. My child…That harami was no father."

" Pacifica, you need to move on," Priscilla urged. " You'll have other children, I'm sure."

" If I ever get the courage to get married again, which I doubt after what that monster did to me," Pacifica groaned, bitterly.

" That is where your mother and I screwed up," Preston admitted as he entered the room. " We should've done our research a little more carefully before arranging a marriage with that…that…that…ugh. Heathen."

Preston waved a clinched fist in the air, while glaring up at the ceiling at the last part.

" You shouldn't have put me through an arranged marriage at all," Pacifica turned to him, a sour expression on her face. " You should've done what every other American parent does and let me decide who I want to marry."

" She has a point, Preston," Priscilla agreed, turning to him.

" Very well," Preston stated, his expression softening. " I will check out the wealthiest bachelors in the US and have you meet with them. Arrange a marriage after you've picked one."

" Dad," Pacifica scolded, her voice cracking. " The last thing I want to do is go directly from an abusive, loveless marriage and into another, what may or may not be happy, marriage. I'd rather be a bachelorette for a while, if that's okay?"

" Fine," Preston rolled his eyes. " I will extend your dating pool to the second wealthiest men in the country."

" Dad," Pacifica scolded again.

" Alright," Preston sighed in defeat. " You can choose whoever you want to marry on your own terms. However, your mother and I still have the final say."

" That's better," Pacifica smiled then turned back to the mirror.

Her mother finished brushing her hair.

" There," she chimed, setting the brush down. " All done."

" The chef should be here any minute," Preston checked his watch then turned to the hallway, smiling. " We're having Chinese tonight."

Preston headed downstairs.

" Mom, do you think Dad meant what he said about giving me a choice," Pacifica questioned.

" Of course not," Priscilla scoffed, rolling her eyes. " Knowing your father, he is probably already looking for another man to marry you in his free time."

Pacifica rubbed her belly again then folded her arms over it.

" Can I have a moment, alone, please," she requested.

Her mother nodded then left the room. Pacifica looked at herself in the mirror then began bawling into her hands, loudly. Priscilla went downstairs to find Preston sitting at the dinner table in a slumped position, head in his hands. She approached him.

" So, how is she," Preston asked, forlornly.

" Still the same," Priscilla sighed then sat down next to him. " I'm getting worried, Preston. What if she turns suicidal?"

" I won't let that happen," Preston said with a determined tone then looked back upstairs.

The bedroom door was still open, much to his relief. He could hear Pacifica crying.

" It pains me seeing her like this," Preston groaned. " I knew we should have had her marry that billionaire from France. He sells the best jewelry, you know."

" But Pacifica still would not have been happy," Priscilla rebutted, placing a hand on his shoulder.

" She would've been better take care of, though," Preston argued back, looking over at her. " Much better taken care of."

Priscilla gave him a death glare, while raising an eyebrow.

" Not emotionally," Priscilla debated. " Preston, our marriage was never arranged. We chose each other. Why does Pacifica's marriage have to be arranged? After all, before I married you, I was making money waiting tables and I was living in the cheapest studio apartment in Portland."

" That's different," Preston dismissed with a wave of his hand. " The man should always be the wealthiest of the two. It is his responsibility to make sure the woman is taken care of, not the other way around."

" And you don't think Pacifica can take care of herself," Priscilla argued, putting her hands on her hips. " What if the man she falls in love with is poor but has a stable job? I'm sure she would not mind being the main breadwinner of the household then. What if he is disabled and can't work? Again, same thing. I don't think she'll care about that. After all, look at who her friends are."

" Fair point," Preston sighed then stood up. " Well, I better get dinner ready. It's getting late."

Preston walked into the kitchen and began prepping dinner. Priscilla watched her husband work with his utensils then looked up toward Pacifica's room, solemnly. Back in the room, Pacifica sat on the ledge of the window, staring up at the night sky as the wind blew through her hair.


	8. Chapter 8: Bonus!

"Escape by Arabian Nightfall"

Chapter 8: Bonus!

Meanwhile, in a big city in Wales, Mabel was selling paintings on a street corner when a man approached her.

" Have a nice day," Mabel chimed as she waved at a customer then turned to the man. " Well, hello there. May I interest you in a painting? They are Mabel Pines Originals."

" Actually, I am interested in something," a Middle Eastern accent spoke out, grinning. " The artist who made these lovely paintings."

Mabel gasped, smiling from ear to ear.

" Are you asking me out on a date," Mabel chirped, leaning over the counter of her concession stand and jumping up and down.

" I am actually taking you to meet my parents," the man answered. " My name is Raja. Raja Hosseini."

" Oh my," Mabel took her hand to her mouth, blushing. " This is so sudden."

" My apologies," Raja uttered, innocently. " Was I being too forward?"

" No, you were perfect," Mabel beamed then slapped Raja on the shoulder, shouting. " I would love to meet your parents. Let's go now."

Mabel put the closed sign on her concession stand, put her unsold paintings in her backpack, and ran past Raja.

" Come on, Raja," Mabel tweeted. " Hurry up."

" Coming," Raja started running after her. " Can you please slow down? I'm not a very good runner."

" Oh, of course," Mabel slowed down to a walking pace. " So, where are you from?"

" I am from Afghanistan," Raja admitted.

" That explains the accent," Mabel chimed then raised an eyebrow, worriedly. " Wait. Don't guys in your country have, like, ten wives or something?"

" Some do and some don't," Raja shrugged casually. " Some need more help around the house than others."

" Really," Mabel buzzed, her eyes twinkling. " I thought they were concubines."

Mabel continued asking Raja questions, unaware of the darkness that lied ahead of her.

End!


End file.
